Photography Through the Lens of Magnum and VII

Spring 2016

Author: Grace

Empowerment of College Women & the Everyday

May 6, 2016 / / 0 Comments

Succelents in small pots with words "empowerment of college women & the everyday" above

collage of woman in in dark clothing

collage of woman in front of laptop

collage of woman reading book

Women’s Empowerment through the Everyday

1. Ivory Miniatures

What should I do with your strong, manly, spirited Sketches, full of Variety & Glow? — How could I possibly join them on to the little bit (two Inches wide) of Ivory on which I work with so fine a Brush, as produces little effect after much labour? —Jane Austen

Often, many critics of Austen’s words, originally written to her nephew, Edward, improperly cite her words as a way to portray a deprecation of “female” writing as suitable or accommodating to the expectations of the female gender (Leffel). Her stories of young women, of love, of courtship, and femininity—these seem to represent her succumbing to the expectations put on women in literature. However, a good look at her writing reveals “a dazzling array of experiments with literary form and genre… [that are] filled with rebellious, transgressive heroines who steal, murder, elope, binge, and booze” and notably radical content that extends far beyond the demarcated field of literature in which women in her era were expected to remain (Leffel). Austen “playfully skewers generic conventions and forces the reader to re-think customary constructions of the novel” and miniaturizes the “picturesque” genre through an empowerment of the typical, expected, everyday topics. She uses heroines “who boldly and unapologetically flaunts gender boundaries, social codes, and even laws…[challenging] her era’s stifling restrictions on women’s bodies and minds at the same time that she questions exactly what constitutes a ‘novel’” (Leffel). She takes the “everyday” woman, her everyday settings and the typical representation of such, in order to comment upon “gendered conventions and social and political implications that this genre in particular—and the novel more generally—normatively assumes” (Leffel). Through her writing and use of satire of the expected tropes in women’s writing, Austen empowers the everyday notions of “femininity” and transforms them into platforms of growth and strength. 

2. The Ethics of Seeing

Susan Meiselas, a Magnum photographer, empowers in a medium different from Austen’s—through photography. As a lover of anthropology, Meiselas shares an intrigue of the human condition, constantly searching for meaning within the people she captures. She often speaks about the “ethics of seeing,” which “involves connecting, engaging, and feeling compassion for your subjects” as a way into truly brining value to a photo (“The Ethics of Seeing”). By connecting with the photo’s story and context, viewers are pushed to extend themselves out into the world and explore overarching themes. The particular photograph that I connected with and used to push myself into the direction of my project was taken in Monimbo, Nicaragua, in 1979, while she was documenting the country’s treacherous revolution. In this photo, a woman, in an eye-catching red dress, pushes a dead body, wrapped up and tied down to a wooden cart. More time and research with this photo led me to the following facts: the woman is 14 years old, and the dead body is her husband. Meiselas represents her powerfully, in a bold dress, holding up the dead body. To me, this photo portrayed the great hand women have had and continue to have in holding up history. Through this photo, I went beyond the story behind the woman and the dead body and grasped onto the potential symbolic implications of this depiction: the concept of strong women. With this idea in mind, I look into some more of Meiselas’ other work, particularly her work on carnival strippers.

3. Candid Representation

In Carnival Strippers (1972-1975), her first major work, Meiselas, without eroticizing or sexualizing, captures the raw reality of the lives of “women who performed striptease for small town carnivals in New England, Pennsylvania, and South Carolina” (Meiselas). Overcoming the stigma and potential preconceived biases that could easily have been attached to her work on women who hold jobs that are not respected in society, she candidly—and truthfully—observed their situation. Using both photographs and interviews, Meiselas captured these women on stage and backstage, and “what is revealed is that, behind the curtain, the dancers are essentially workers. Taking a few minutes off, they are resting, cleaning up, smoking” (English). She shows the uncompromising truth of their lives which are not always about being sex icons. She documents their everyday, and in this, like Austen, Meiselas empowers their efforts to make a living the best they could within a “seedy” world. She emphasizes the voices of these women and challenges the societal conventional confines that aim to demean and weaken the strength of women in such jobs.

4. My Project

Through these three lenses, combining the idea of empowerment through the rawness of the everyday and the concept of “holding up” history, I found myself focusing on a subject that was real—and close—to me: women in college. Through photosets of my friend, Sam, in different settings, holding different things, I strived to paint a few different ways in which women in college can be empowered in the everyday, the “ordinary,” through the ivory miniatures of their daily lives. Like Meiselas, I wanted to take advantage of the illustrative, narrative quality that photographs embrace. In order to paint a tangible depiction of female empowerment through the everyday, I decided to use platform of the photo collage. Through the combining of photos that capture the whole body, the hand, the act of holding up and object, I created a fuller representation of the empowerment of women through everyday concepts.

I wanted to explore the empowerment of women without having to romanticize them, to portray strong women in ordinary life, rather than as superheroes or goddesses. Thus, I created three photosets, titled Sword, Shield, and Armor; each one signifying one way in which the everyday, the ordinary, the usual, gives power to women in college.

A play on the phrase, “the pen is mightier than the sword,” Sword portrays how expression, the concept of writing, acts as a tool for women in college to not only express themselves but speak up. Particularly in an era of technology and internet, sharing your writing has become incredibly simple. Through blogs, diaries, journals—entities often associated with the female experience and popular among women in college—we are encouraged to and hold the authority to share the female voice which is much less prevalent in mainstream news, media, and literature. By “holding up” our pens, women garner the propensity to be heard, to create, to use writing as a tool for social change and equality; we strike against the trends in our world—in literature, journalism, and influential schools of thought that are charged with the masculine experience. Through the power of the written word, she speaks up for her strength, her belief, her capabilities.

Armor focuses on what women choose to wear and fights the stigma around the phrase, “dressed to be seen.” Taken at Washington Square Park, full of people who come to see and to be seen, I spurn the idea that women are objects of entertainment and dress for others. Beyond deconstructing the stigma around how women dress, how they should dress, and how their clothes label them, I want to reject the stigma around the idea of presentation, of showing off. Through their clothes—accessories, makeup—women not only express themselves but are empowered to use her the clothes she holds up with her body as a demonstration of the beauty of herself, her style, her woman-ness. Instead of being shackled by labels, women dress in their “armor” against the demarcation of the identity of a woman based on her clothes. The way she chooses to present herself empowers her in her self-expression, her presentation of herself to the world, allowing her to not be shaken by attacks against her identity. She is strong in who she is and she shows this through the clothes she chooses to wear each day.

The last photoset, Shield, represents how college women empower themselves through knowledge and education. With intelligence and wisdom, women can stay informed and well-educated on the workings of the world in order to fight against ignorance, injustice, and inequality. Through education, women are empowered to not only take on influential, powerful positions in the workforce, the government, the society, but also protect—to shield—themselves from further discrimination and patronization. Education equates to independence. Through the act of learning, women garner skillsets to help them thrive and support themselves in the world, instead of falling into the molds society expects us to fall into. Through her education, she harnesses the power to expand in a world that wants her to stay still.

Overall, through my project, I depict women empowerment, as a movement that has nothing to do with hierarchy, putting women over men. The primary objective of feminism— is about urging women to believe in their capabilities and identities as living beings who are capable of immense strength and creativity. As Mary Wollstonecraft states, in A Vindication of the Rights of Woman, “I do not wish them [women] to have power over men; but over themselves.”

Works Cited (and Consulted)

Austen-Leigh, William, and Richard Arthur Austen-Leigh. Jane Austen, Her Life and Letters, a Family Record. New York: Russell & Russell, 1965. Print.

English, Deirdre. Stripped Bare: Nude Girls and Naked Truth.” Carnival Strippers. By Susan Meiselas. Steidl: Steidl, Gerhard Druckerei und Verlag, 2003. 153-9. Print.

The Ethics of Seeing. Perf. Susan Meiselas. San Francisco Museum of Modern Art. San Francisco Museum of Modern Art, n.d. Web.

Harrison, Jim. “A Lens on History.” Harvard Magazine. Harvard Magazine Inc, 19 Oct. 2010. Web. 06 May 2016.

Leffel, John C.  “Jane Austen’s Miniature ‘Novel’: Gender, Politics and Form in The Beautiful Cassandra.”  Persuasions 32 (2010): 184-95.

Meiselas, Susan. “Susan Meiselas Photographer.” Carnival Strippers. Magnum Photos, 1972-1975. Web. 06 May 2016.

“Portrait Miniature.” Wikipedia. Wikimedia Foundation, n.d. Web. 06 May 2016.

Seymour, Tom. “Susan Meiselas: Carnival Strippers.” British Journal of Photography. Aptitude Media Ltd., 23 Jan. 2015. Web. 06 May 2016.

Todd, Janet.  “Ivory Miniatures and the Art of Jane Austen.”  British Women’s Writing in the Long Eighteenth Century: Authorship, Politics and History.  Ed. Jennie Batchelor and Cora Kaplan.  New York: Palgrave, 2005.  76-97.

Wollstonecraft, Mary. A Vindication of the Rights of Woman: An Authoritative Text, Backgrounds, the Wollstonecraft Debate, Criticism. New York: Norton, 1988. Print.

Observations on Interconnections

May 6, 2016 / / 0 Comments

A work of art, journalism, literature cannot exist without the presence of a viewer. Much of this entire course has been about being the viewer, bringing how we feel and what we know to a photograph, a representation of a single moment in time. A photograph is not the equivalent of truth; a photograph is also a form of portrayal and manifestation of someone’s perception of reality.

In other words, the topics we have discussed throughout this semester seem to be joined by a common thread, an idea iterated by Susan Sontag: a picture is not worth a thousand words. Without context and explanation, a photo can be interpreted to mean anything.

I remember a comment by Ben, while we were examining photos from (I believe) Telex Iran, in which he questioned whether we were perhaps trying a little too hard to find symbolic meaning in these photos. He rightfully shed light on the blurred line between deriving meaning and validating our own interpretations. When do our own opinions become too much? How far should we go in reach for the context of the situation? Where is the line between photography as an art form and photography as documentary evidence? Are documentary photographers not supposed express themselves in their documentations of truth and history?

While I may not have the answers to those questions, I hold onto the lens of Susan Sontag, the mysterious, ambiguous multidisciplinary power of photography. In the questions above, if we seek simple answers, then we underestimate, demarcate the breadth of photography and what we can do. If we draw lines and form cookie-cutter dimensions to the multiple facets of photography, we will only limit its capabilities and potentials to take on different forms–as art, as documentation, as fashion, as entertainment, etc.

Steve McCurry

March 25, 2016 / / 0 Comments

The two photos that drew me in the most, aesthetically and contextually, were “Dust Storm” and “Boy in Mid Flight.”

In “Dust Storm,” the cluster of red orange in contrast to the faded sand immediately captivates you. It’s right in the center, taking up a third of the entire photo. The patterns on their clothes, their white jewelry–it all almost looks like a photo that could be in a fashion magazine. Then, in the less vibrant background, which does not make it less beautiful, there are haunting trees that seem to create an arch around the group of women. Altogether, the photo is absolutely beautiful.

Although, after reading the caption, you discover that what is happening is a rather common occurrence, it is hard to deny the photo’s beauty and sense of magic–a common thread in all of McCurry’s work.

In the “rhythms of every life,” McCurry captures what Henri Cartier-Bresson would call the decisive moments, and which he himself calls “unguarded moments.” Although they call it very different things, the work of both these photographers document the enchantment of everyday life.  They both embody the true essence of street photography, waiting patiently in the ordinary to find the split second moments of marvel . Rather than thinking so critically in their processes, they do what feels right; by staying emotionally aware and un-jaded, they perceive life more deliberately and are able to capture the highlights in life.

In this way, they not only experience life in a more thorough, deeper way, they take photos that allow viewers to step into the almost familiar, yet very magical image.

Young girls in red heard scarves huddled in a circle

This photo also holds so much mystery and narrative. You can’t see any of the women’s faces as they huddle in the middle of the desert. After reading the caption, you learn this was in the midst of the dust storm. The storm forced the women, barely able to stand, to cluster together to protect themselves. Through this one shot of their motion, McCurry created a bold image of solidarity that is hard to take yours eyes off of.

This sense of mystery and narrative is also found in “Boy in Mid Flight.” Where is the boy headed? Where is this little alley? Where does it lead to? The photo just reeks of adventure and arouses so much curiosity. It brings you back to childhood, reminding you of those games of pretend that were so real back then, when backyards were rainforest and living rooms, pools of lava. Young boy running barefoot through brightly painted streets

Visually, the photo is also absolutely stunning. Following the rule of thirds and also boasting his high contrast, vibrant style, this photo is, simply put, fun. First and foremost, the colors are captivating. The blue catches your eye first, revealing the adorable shot of a young boy, mid-leap. Then the yellow, immediately to the right, and the red handprints to the left seem to tie the photo all together. Three primary colors in one shot.

In contrast to Cartier-Bresson’s black and white photography, McCurry’s photos proudly share the colors of India. If Cartier-Bresson is the master of black and white photography (which stemmed from a bit of snobbery against color), then McCurry is the master of color. At times, McCurry’s colors seem to outshine the regality the black and white photos, in the way they do not mute what is there, what is going on, no matter how loud the shot may be.

Blood and Honey Response

March 10, 2016 / / 0 Comments

Many people and publications have reviewed, reference, or reflected on Ron Haviv’s Blood and Honey—particularly the one photograph of the Serbian paramilitary member kicking the body of the dying civilian. NPR mentions that photograph to symbolize one of the most violent of images from Haviv in order to make the point that even these terrible photos could not urge the rest of the world to pay attention to what was happening to the Balkans. Emily Schmidt of Miami University, furthers the story. As the war became more and more intense, Haviv’s photos began to gain the attention of the U.S. government and were used to lobby the Western powers to intervene. Both NPR and Schmidt utilize the photo of the paramilitary member kicking the civilian body in their articles to symbolize the terror.

Then I ran into an article on The Guardian by Peter Beaumont in which he paints that specific photo in a different light. While still admitting to its shock factor and level of horror, Beaumont notes “the odd flickers of humanity” in the killers and the victims of the photograph. He notes at the end that “Haviv’s images off a universal comfort to us all from a place where there is…little to be found.” Beyond being photographs that garner the attention and action of the world and powerful governments, Haviv’s photos capture humanity at its purest form—the small details that remind the viewer that these are human beings who are doing the killing, who are dying. This concept is discussed in Sarah O’Dea’s review of Blood and Honey, in which she calls it the “unique humanization of such tragedy.” While capturing terror, Haviv also captures the aftermath, the consequences of war. More the just a documentation of war, each of Haviv’s photograph is a deliberate testament to the human pain, human struggle, human suffering of the Balkan War. As said perfectly by O’Dea: “The faces and scenes depicted in the book are not alien to the reader because their struggle is recognizable as a state of humanity.” As viewers, we are challenged to become viewers of reality, the suffering of fellow human beings, not a foreign spectacle.

I had a difficult time looking for non-American/European commentary, but from what I’ve found, the specific photo has been the most prominent and most famous of all the photos from Blood and Honey. It has been used in many different publications and websites to represent the Balkan War, Haviv, and most importantly, human suffering and tragedy.

If I were studying the legacy of this image, I would want to speak to any living survivors of that war. I would want to talk to people who experienced the pain that is represented in that photo firsthand in order to collect history on how reflect on that war. Then, I would try to find the families and descendants of the victims, to get their story on the pain of their ancestors. Additionally, I would want to talk to the man who committed the kicking and other paramilitary members to figure out their reflection of the war. Lastly, I would want to speak with government officials who were in power at the time of the war to discuss how the photo affected their decisions and whether they wish they would’ve acted differently.

http://www.npr.org/programs/morning/features/2001/feb/010222.haviv.html

http://dpa20miamiuniversity.com/2015/11/12/ron-haviv-international-conflict-photojournalist/#more-492

http://www.theguardian.com/education/2001/jun/17/artsandhumanities.highereducation

http://takegreatpictures.com/photo-tips/photo-book-reviews/blood-and-honey-design-method

Grace Yun

March 10, 2016 / / 0 Comments

Author eating ramen

I’m Grace, a freshman studying Global Public Health and Nursing. I was born in Seoul, South Korea but moved to North Carolina (best state of all time) when I was three. I’m a huge Tar Heels and Carolina Panthers fan who loves sweet tea and gets homesick often.

Hopefully, I will be transferring into Gallatin next fall to combine my interests in public health and health policy, journalism, photography, and design. I grew up thinking I had a brain wired for science and math, but my heart has always belonged to literature and the arts.

Unlike the bulk of this class, I don’t really do great things with photography except post on Instagram (@graceyunn). I do play around with my film camera from time to time and would really love to learn more about photography, particularly portraiture.

VII

February 12, 2016 / / 1 Comment

Modern. Sleek. New. Those are the first three words that popped into my head when I first entered the VII website.  It was easy to tell this collective gathered a much younger generation of photographers in comparison to Magnum; the web design was more advanced , there was a live twitter feed, they had a real time map, etc. In comparison to the solemn (and almost less ostentatious) Magnum, VII belts out its humanitarian objective–quite literally. In their logo at the top right of their website, VII labels themselves as “A GROUP OF ENGAGED & COMMITTED PHOTOGRAPHERS CONCERNED WITH THE WORLD AND THE LIVES OF OTHERS” in caps lock.

But beyond the initial grandiose, VII’s core objective cannot be ignored. They are a group that truly brings attention to issues that don’t get the attention they deserve.  Tech savvy and modern, VII effectively takes advantage of the visual resources of the 21st century in order to fulfill their humanitarian objectives.

As a testament to their savvy, technological creativity, VII provides an option to view the photographers by photo. While looking through the photos, I was drawn to the photographs of Sarker Protick and Ed Kashi.

I was immediately drawn to Sarker Protick’s work because of an aesthetic attraction to the simplicity and pastel colors of his work. The bright, very pale and cool qualities are captivating. Rather than having a muted feel, Protick’s work holds a mesmerizing quality–mystical and full of magic.

This is most evident in the photos below; one is of an older man and one is of a wheelchair.

In both photos, it is hard not to get lost in the sea of white. The soft light seems to exude beyond the photograph and place you right into the scene of the photo. Rather than eliciting curiosity, the photos keep you afloat in their endless gossamer of enchantment.

Particularly in the photo of the man, once you get past the overpowering light, you begin to notice the details: the grey hat, the door to the right, the white fabric around his neck, the powder on his body, his solemn face. The longer you look the more evident–and almost darker–these details become. Soon, you are more than just drawn to the aesthetic qualities of the photograph, you find yourself coloring the story that the photograph longs to tell.

The photo of the wheelchair contains a bit more color–particularly a light pink-purplish hue that I believe really completes the photo. Without that slight color, I think I would’ve correlated this photo to a sterile hospital setting. But instead, its rosy quality elicits a peacefulness in death–a symbol of a life well lived and a life well parted.

The second photographer I chose was Ed Kashi. The photo that represented him in VII’s catalog of photographers caught my attention because I thought it perfectly embodied what Henri Cartier-Bresson would call “the decisive moment.” 

The perfect jump, the perfect ratio–either Kashi was extremely lucky or this photo shows his utmost talent in capturing the decisive moment. In the midst of turmoil, a young child leaps across a pile of burning materials, symbolizing hope and victory, especially within the younger generation. The child’s lifted right arm adds to this hopeful message and ironically portrays innocence in the midst of corruption and terror.

The second photo of Kashi’s I chose is below.

When looking at this photo, I find myself holding my breath. As if I am there and if I made a sound I would disrupt the moment, the solemn silence. What really amazes me is how he managed to capture this extremely sensitive photo; each facial expression portrays a sadness that you can almost hear–particularly the facial expression of the man of the far right who is comforting the man to his left. The reality and rawness of this photo is what makes it so great.

One more thing I must note about this photo is how translucent the women in the hospital bed looks. Like a ghost, she seems to fade as if to physically portray the loss of those who surround her in the hospital room.

A Story of Aesthetics

February 4, 2016 / / 1 Comment

The Magnum website proved to be as beautiful and easily navigable as the photography on the site. From the simple font and design to the way the posts were separated into blocks, the Magnum website and the photographs draw you in. Although very uninformed about the technicalities of photography and what goes into making a shot aesthetically pleasing, I think that there is not one photo on this site that you could not deem beautiful or captivating. Ironically, although I am not sure that is the right word to use, even the photos of war and pain and corruption were captured in the most attractive, most vibrant, most pleasing ways. But especially through these almost inhumane documentations of horror, I personally was able draw a better focus on the very blurry line between photography and photojournalism.  Photojournalism is unforgiving. It captures raw truth. And beyond being merely visually pleasing, the work of these photographers tell a tale of relevance and gravity far better than CNN, The New York Times, The Atlantic, NPR. Rather than reading or listening to the news, the photography stays still as you find yourself paused in time, across the globe, in the midst of a crisis, a riot, a  singular moment. However, not every photograph captured a pivotal, societal event or crisis; many were documentations of an era–the fashion, the people, the culture–which hold relevant meaning and a story to tell as well. Through these static snapshots, the Magnum Collective does not merely document human history but urges the viewers to never forget, to stay empathetic and to never remain still.

The two photographers that I chose to look at were two female photographers: Eve Arnold and Alessandra Sanguinetti. In the process of choosing photographers I decided I wanted to give my attention to the very small female population in Magnum. I first chose Arnold, who had a quote that caught my attention in her profile: “If a photographer cares about the people before the lens and is compassionate, much is given. It is the photographer, not the camera, that is the instrument.” This bolstered my perception of Magnum photographers as the warriors of our world, those who venture out in search of stories in need of being told. Almost evangelically, their photographs spread the gospel of remaining informed and not remaining still. To me, the particular Arnold photograph that embodies this is a gorgeous image of a young Chinese girl and a tired white horse on a beautiful green field lightly sprinkled with white and yellow flowers. Not only is this photo visually beautiful, it is beautifully intriguing. The caption, “CHINA. Inner Mongolia. Horse training for the militia. 1979” completely contradicts the serenity and beauty the photo holds and pulls the viewer into its story. Is this young girl dressed in bright pink really training a horse for war? Was she doing in voluntarily, against her own will? How old is she really? What are her own perceptions of the war? In this moment of utter peace, could there actually be a different story? There is no way not to get lost in the mystery and intrigue. Initially left with but a short caption, the viewer finds himself immersed in a story that urges him to discover more. 

Young woman laying in field with horse

The second photo that really drew me in was a black and white shot of Marlene Dietrich. The photograph is haunting; Dietrich is sitting in a distressed pose, her elbow on her thigh and hand on her cheek–in almost a “The Thinker”-esque pose. On the table in front seems to be a mug and a used tissue. The depth of the distress tugs at your heart, makes you want to comfort the damsel–that is, until you read the caption. The caption describes “Dietrich at the recording studios of COLUMBIA RECORDS, who were releasing most of her songs she had performed for the troops during World War II, including LILI MARLENE, Miss Otis Regrets. She was 51 years old and starting a come-back in show business. It was a wet and cold November night and work could only begin at midnight, at the advise [sic] of Marlene’s astrologer. November 1952.” The caption transform the photo into one of more exhaustion, a worn-out feeling. I could hear her almost sighing, “Why am I here?” The photograph and the caption work to give the viewer a piece of Dietrich’s personality–a mix of haughty stardom but also a worried, superstitious and desperate ex-star.

Woman at table looking away from camera

Whether it be in color or not, have a long caption or not, both of these photographs invite you into their story. In both, Arnold truly captured moments that long to find a viewer who will listen to and search for its story.

Visual storytelling cannot solely be attributed to Arnold. Quite honestly, I believe it is embedded in the essence of photojournalism. Through Book 1 of her photo journal “The Adventures of Guille and Belinda…” Alessandra Sanguinetti, the second photographer I chose, captures snapshots of two girls’ lives. Of the two photos that especially stood out to me, the one of Guille standing next to a large hydrangea bush with her face hidden among the leaves. It wasn’t particularly the odd situation at hand that really drew me in; it was the colors–the faded blues, the subtle pinks, the deep greens. With the stunning color scheme and the peculiar, silly, very animated pose, the photo is just fun–and fun to look at. All of them are actually. All the photos in this particular photo story captivate you with color and scenes of companionship and femininity within the confines of a square. My second favorite photo was also in the same photo journal. It shows Guille and Belina, two girls of opposite body figures, floating with their eyes closed in a beautiful blue body of water. They hold flowers in their hands which really reminded me of the painting Ophelia by Sir John Everett Millais. Once again, this odd scene paired with the beautiful colors make the photo impossible to not look at and just enjoy. The story Sanguinetti tells through her photographs is one that evokes a happy feeling, a story of innocence and the beauty of youth. Her images are purely lovely and portrays her two characters into a lovable pair, much like Wallace and Gromit.

Woman smelling flowers in large bush       Two young women laying river with flowers in their hands

 

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